


(it would be a hundred times easier) if we were young again.

by pseudocordelia



Series: first loves, dances and duscur. [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-01-31 02:17:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudocordelia/pseuds/pseudocordelia
Summary: Five years ago, Ashe asked Dedue to dance with him.-(I have chosen not to use archive warnings because I am not sure what applies for deaths that are "canon". Just be warned, Golden Deer and Black Eagles student deaths will be mentioned.)
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Series: first loves, dances and duscur. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576333
Comments: 28
Kudos: 100





	1. but as it is

**Author's Note:**

> How slow does something have to be to be slow burn? Asking for a friend.
> 
> (I hope you enjoy!)

Five years ago, Ashe asked Dedue to dance with him. 

He had been standing alone, far from the dance floor, watching Dimitri from a distance. It had been easy for Ashe to spot him: many of the other students seemed to be avoiding standing anywhere near him. 

"You know I am a man of Duscur," he had said. "This could damage your reputation."  
"I know."  
"I also do not know how to dance."  
"I don't really, either. But Lord Lonato taught me how to waltz. I can teach you." He offered his hand. Dedue stared down, seemingly bewildered, but surprisingly, he took it in his own. A light smile graced his face.  
"...I would enjoy that." 

Ashe led him onto the dance floor, into a corner where there weren't many couples. They seemed to all spin away with the arrival of Dedue, anyway… if only they would speak to him, Ashe thought. Then they'd know how kind he was.

"Firstly, we put our hands together… like this," he said as he raised their arms together. "And then," he held Dedue's loose hand and guided it towards his back, "the man puts his right hand on the lady's left shoulder blade."

"Why are you the lady?" Dedue plainly asked, as if the question was not embarrassing in the slightest, while he placed his hand as told. 

Ashe felt his face get hotter as he put his free hand atop Dedue's shoulder. Late at night, as he panted from touching himself like any young man his age would, he had thought of how he wanted Dedue to treat him like a 'lady.' 

He averted his gaze and instead answered with the best thing that came to mind. "...because you're taller than me?"   
"That makes sense," Dedue conceded. He said nothing else as if awaiting instructions. Ashe still felt warmth in his face: it was so pleasant to just enjoy a few silent moments with Dedue. He shook his head a little as if to try and rid himself of the thought and continued, subconsciously tightening his grip on Dedue's hand.  
"Okay, now you step forward with your left foot…"

Dedue got the hang of it very quickly. After a few minutes of dancing, he was seemingly doing even better than Ashe, who had already stepped on Dedue's feet twice. The two held onto each other in silence: it was serene. Dedue was so gentle, and he was smiling ever so softly. Seeing the blissful look on Dedue's face, Ashe couldn't help but smile himself.

Ashe liked Dedue. 

_A lot. _

At first, Ashe was kind of intimidated by him… he towered over him and he had heard such dreadful things about people from Duscur, how they all ate children and killed innocents. However, as they danced, he felt safe having someone to watch over him. He felt as if Dedue could protect him both on and off the battlefield. The people of Duscur were human like everyone else: all it took for Ashe to realise that was to see a small smile as Dedue fondly looked at the plants in the greenhouse. 

Ashe concluded that day that Dedue was no monster. He later grew to learn that he was more like an angel. 

He treated plants so tenderly and carefully. He was an amazing cook. He was honourable to a fault when it came to his duty of protecting Dimitri.

What made Ashe actually fall for Dedue, though, was his kindness. He didn't say much, but what he did say was so sincere. His actions were even more so.

The day Lonato had died, Ashe locked himself in his room for the night. He had cried into his pillow until he fell asleep. When he finally went out to pray, there were white lilies on his doorstep. When he did enter the chapel, Dedue was there, standing by the pews, seemingly waiting for him.

"Know that I am here for you, as well as the rest of the Blue Lions," he assured Ashe as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

Ashe almost flinched at the touch. Of course, Dedue had touched him before… he would wipe dirt or flour off Ashe's cheeks without thinking. It was like a sort of motherly instinct. This, however, was deliberate.

"Um… th-thank you," Ashe stuttered, looking down at his feet. Dedue lifted his hand: he worried he had overstepped boundaries.  
"The flowers… was that you?""Yes. I had wanted to write a letter to accompany them, but nothing came to mind."  
"Thank you, Dedue."

Dedue nodded but said nothing. They stood in silence for a few seconds.  
"Uh… aren't you meant to be with Dimitri?"  
"His highness is having tea with the Professor."  
"Then… would you like to pray together?"  
"...yes."

They ate lunch together later that day. Dedue told Ashe that he still felt somewhat sad thinking of his parents, but that time heals all wounds. He never once directly mentioned what happened. 

It was refreshing after Ashe had heard so many different forms of "I'm sorry for _your_ loss.". 

Dedue understood how Ashe felt. Dedue understood Ashe.

Later on, they talked for hours in the greenhouse, about everything, really. They talked about their classmates and professor, and the meal they just had. Dedue told Ashe that some of the flowers in the greenhouse were from Duscur, showed him which ones he was referring to and spoke of how they needed less water. Ashe, in turn, told Dedue what he knew about the herbs in the greenhouse: how some were used for medicines and whatnot. He hoped to hear more about Duscur.

It was nice. Ashe got a better sleep that night. 

He felt a lot closer to Dedue after that day, and they only got closer. Even before that day, they were close: Ashe had grilled Dedue for cooking tips and had told him that if people just talked to him, they would know the people of Duscur were kind. He had called Dedue his 'friend'.

Yet after that day, Ashe felt even closer: Dedue had come to him in his time of need. He would have to do the same for Dedue if the situation ever arose. After the day Dedue comforted him, Ashe felt an inexplicable warmth inside him whenever he was around the prince's vassal.

He had found himself talking to Dedue in the greenhouse quite often. He went to the greenhouse on his days off just to spend time with him.

Dedue made him feel safe… he wanted to spend even _ more _time with Dedue. He wanted to be with Dedue. 

He was in love with Dedue, wasn't he?

Ashe had decided to himself that when they graduated, if he still felt the way he did, he would ask Dedue if he could formally court him. Ashe was going to be Lord of Gaspard, it seemed. It would be harmful to his name to have informal relations. (He always wondered how Sylvain was so carefree.)

It wouldn't hurt to just dance with him before that, though. So, five years ago, Ashe had asked Dedue to dance with him. They held each other, late into the night… yet the ballroom slowly emptied. The orchestra quieted.

No-one wanted to be the last couple dancing. And so, Ashe let go of Dedue's hands. "Good night, Dedue," he sighed softly.

Dedue seemed confused, but nonetheless, he smiled at Ashe.

"Good night, Ashe."

* * *

The next day, Jeralt Eisner died.

The professor's father - _ the _ bladebreaker - _ the _Jeralt Eisner died. 

Ashe did not get to spend much time with Dedue after that. The whole world seemed to have slowed down. All of the knights were trying to find the ones responsible for Jeralt's death and all the students were trying to comfort the professor. Dedue stood by Dimitri throughout, not once leaving his side. 

Ashe was somewhat jealous. He told himself it was childish: Dimitri was royalty, he was much more important than Ashe would ever be. Dedue wasn't avoiding him, he was just fulfilling his duties as a vassal. The feelings remained, despite Ashe's best efforts to convince himself he had no reason to be jealous.

He still tried to sit near Dedue in class, but he never found him in the greenhouse. (He had visited every day, morning and evening, hoping to see him.) If he wanted to, he could talk to Dedue in class, but it was so much more comfortable when it was just the two of them. It was much more intimate. 

The tension would wear off, Ashe told himself. Then they could talk in the greenhouse again.

Another month later, the professor, for lack of a better word, transformed. Things seemed to be slowly getting better: the professor was no longer frowning. However, Dedue still did not leave Dimitri's side. It did make sense - if those people could kill the bladebreaker and make the professor vanish into thin air, perhaps his highness was in danger too.

Ashe still felt jealous. 

Another month later, Edelgard had declared war on the church and Dimitri seemed to have snapped. He had gone mad, babbling to himself about how he would have her head. Dedue remained by his side.

Ashe still felt jealous, even then. It was selfish of him, considering the circumstances, but why did Dedue dedicate so much to Dimitri? When would Dedue live for himself? 

Ashe never got to ask him. The tension never wore off.

As the monastery was evacuated, Ashe didn't even know where Dedue was. They weren't going to graduate, so Ashe wanted to confess then. He wanted to hug him, to kiss him and say "I like you": or maybe even "I love you.". He cursed himself for not doing so sooner, but he had to do it now. Otherwise, when would he? If worse came to worse, they wouldn't see each other for five years, or one of them would…

He didn't want to think about Dedue dying.

He ran aimlessly across the battlefield, bow-in-hand. The only direction he knew to go was away from the imperial troops. After what felt like hours but was in actuality perhaps only minutes, Ashe saw the shadow of a pegasus in front of him. 

He looked up as he grabbed an arrow from his quiver, only to realise that its rider was friend, not foe: it was Ingrid. Considering how high she was, she would be more likely to have seen Dedue, right?

"Ingrid!" he yelled frantically and she swooped down to meet him. He was panting from all the running.

"What is the matter, Ashe?" Her brow crinkled up with worry as Luín pulsed in her hands. "Are you alright?" 

Those questions weren't important to Ashe: he needed to find the person that mattered to him the most, as soon as possible. "Have you seen Dedue anywhere!?" 

She frowned, hesitating for a moment to answer him.

"Ashe… House Blaiddyd's convoy has already left."

"...oh." Ashe could feel the tears coming. He blinked rapidly to try and stop them and he looked away as to not embarrass himself in front of Ingrid. 

He had missed his chance. He wondered: did he ever tell Christophe that he loved him? What about Lonato?

He felt a droplet run down his cheek. He was in such a trance that he hadn't even noticed Ingrid had dismounted from her pegasus until he felt her arms around her.

"Ashe," she said, in a gentler tone than Ashe had ever heard her speak before. "You can't weep now. We have to get to safety."  
Ashe sniffled as he wiped his tears. They were on a battlefield… he could vaguely hear screams in the distance. Ashe seemed to have forgotten the fact, with how overwhelming his feelings of despair were.  
"...you're right,'' he sighed, (he had to live to see Dedue again, after all.) and all of a sudden he felt cold without Ingrid's arms around him. 

He heard sounds of metal and leather, as she placed a foot in the stirrup of her pegasus' saddle as she threw her other leg over. "Do you need help getting on?" she asked as she held her hand out to Ashe.  
"...I'm fine," he lied, standing up straight in an attempt to compose himself. "I can get to safety on my own."  
"You're exhausted. Let me help, I don't want to lose you, too."

_Too _. Ashe couldn't help but feel bad hearing those words. Did one of their classmates die today? Or was she speaking about what happened at Duscur? Ashe was not one to pry, but he had overheard some of her conversations with Felix... He was being selfish rejecting her. He sheepishly nodded, and simply replied "okay".

"Thank you… So it's just like getting on a horse," she said as she looked down at Ashe. "You know how to get on a horse, right?" She smiled at him and giggled, but Ashe wasn't sure if she was faking it or not.  
Ashe gave Ingrid a small bittersweet smile. Outside of the current circumstance, perhaps he would've laughed too. "I know how to get on a horse," he replied as he stepped into the stirrup. Ingrid helped him up onto the saddle and grabbed his hand, placing it across her waist.

"Hold on tight," she advised as she took hold of her pegasus' reins. Soon they were going up and Ashe held onto Ingrid for dear life. The moment went awfully fast, perhaps because Adrenaline was still running through his veins. Before Ashe knew it they were at a makeshift refugee camp atop a hill. 

"I suppose this is where we part," Ingrid sighed as she moved loose strands of hair behind her ear. "One of my brothers is already here.”

Ashe turned his head to where Ingrid was looking. There was a small carriage stationed there: the crest of Daphnel was emblazoned on it in a shade of dark blue. There were other carriages behind it, some of them seemingly already leaving. People were coming in and out of the camp.

"Goodbye, Ingrid." Ashe looked her in the eyes: this could be the last time he saw her, after all. "Thank you… for everything."  
"Thank you for everything as well, Ashe," she smiled again and Ashe could feel how puffy his eyes were. Ingrid wiped a tear from his face before turning to leave, guiding her pegasus behind her by the reins. He heard her whisper, "don't forget our promise."

How could he fulfill it, though? He wasn't even sure how he was going to return home. It seemed Ingrid had written to her family sometime before today, but Ashe had little family left. He did have his younger brother and sister, whom he loved dearly, but they were too young to organise transport… should he stay at the camp and write to those left running the household? They were already too busy, though, with the death of their lord leaving everything in disarray. It was not guaranteed the letter would even make it with how aggressive the Empire was acting.

Could he try and travel home by himself? Would that be too dangerous?

As if answering his thoughts, a voice stopped Ingrid in her tracks and made Ashe turn his head.

"Ingrid! Ashe!" Annette yelled as she ran towards them, panting. Her hair was a tousled mess: one half of it had fallen from its tie and the rest seemed as if it would soon follow. Blood had dried on her uniform. "I'm so glad to see you're safe! Can I hug you?"

Ingrid laughed. "I don't see why not." Ashe was about to nod but Annette threw herself at the both of them, hugging them tightly. It felt nice, but Ashe also could feel her squeezing his ribs… it had gone on for a little too long by the time Ingrid placed her hand on Annette's shoulder and said "I'm sorry, I have to go. My family is waiting for me."

Annette quickly pulled away, her warm tears splashing against Ashe. "I'll miss you, Ingrid!"  
"Same to you. Stay safe out there." 

With that, Ingrid walked off with her pegasus in tow, leaving Ashe and Annette alone. "I'm going to miss you too, you know," Annette lamented as she rubbed a knuckle against her cheek. "So, is your house's convoy here yet, Ashe? I asked some of the servants my uncle sent to let me say some goodbyes, so here I am."

"Nobody's coming," Ashe murmured. He felt kind of bad for ruining the positive atmosphere Annette managed to create just by being there, but what he said was true.  
"Oh! Oh…" Annette's smile turned to a frown. Her voice had sombered down dramatically. "I'm sorry, I forgot about… that." Ashe shook his head as if to say it was fine. She stared at him for a moment, looking deep in thought, before opening her mouth to speak again: "I'm pretty sure we stop at Arianrhod though. So it should be no problem to make a stop in Gaspard. I'll go convince the servants!" 

Annette had turned around without even letting Ashe respond, so he supposed he had no choice but to follow.

He soon found himself sitting beside her in the back of a horse-led cart. The euphoric sense of joy from finding out their friends were alive had worn off, and now the two sat in silence. There was nothing left to say, anyway: Ashe had already thanked her and the servants of Dominic for letting him board. They had already said goodbye with that hug, and it seemed like Annette didn’t want to talk: her hands were shaking ever so slightly.

Annette was a good friend, though, so he supposed it was better to share an awkward silence with her rather than someone else. He wondered what it was Annette was thinking about before his thoughts soon went back to Dedue.

He was alive, at the very least, Ashe told himself. But how long would he live for? Would he see him again? Dedue was strong, but Ashe remembered that he used to think Christophe and Lonato were strong. It also seemed as if Dedue would throw his life away without question for his Highness. He hoped Dedue knew he had so much more to live for: he didn't get to tell him, after all.

Ashe tried to stop thinking about it... he was awfully tired.

* * *

Ashe's eyes fluttered open to the sight of sunlight peeking through the carriage's window and the sound of Annette snoring. The sun had just risen: he had slept for over half a day, it seemed. He still felt rather tired and was considering closing his eyes again when the horses came to a sudden stop.

Ashe peaked his head around the curtain separating the seating area from the outside winds. He recognised the building in front of him as Lonato's manor.

One of the men holding the horses' reins looked behind him to Ashe. "You're home," he declared. "We can't stop for long, though."

Ashe wasn't sure that this was home: over the past year, he had begun to feel as if Garreg Mach was his home. Nevertheless, he nodded and stood up. "Thank you for allowing me to board," he said to the servant whilst he bowed his head.

He stepped out of the carriage without saying a proper goodbye to Annette: she seemed so blissful as she slept… he didn't want to interrupt that. He didn't know what to say to her, either.

He felt pathetic.

* * *

He was home.

His siblings were in the room beside him - he had tucked them into bed after taking them home from the church. Before that, he had a small breakfast consisting of toasted bread and smoked herring. He then consulted with the few remaining Gaspard servants about room arrangements, before heading off to see his brother and sister.

He had been happy to see them, to hug them and tell them how he had missed them. They missed him as well, or at least they told him they did. His sister, the younger of the two, asked how his time at the monastery was. His brother asked why he was home so soon. He ignored both questions and instead changed the topic to what they’d like to have for lunch.

It was nice to cook for them: he felt relaxed for a bit before he had to continue consulting the servants.

Their house had already received a declaration of war from the empire. He sat down and thought about what to do for what seemed like hours… perhaps he'd consult with the neighbouring House Rowe? Perhaps the two Houses could combine for the duration of the war? Rowe had practically been governing Gaspard for months after Lonato died, anyway.

Perhaps they could just surrender immediately and spare the lives of their people?

There were too many options, and he wasn’t sure if any of them were right. He hadn’t met a conclusion by dinnertime: he instead sat down with his siblings again, before tucking them in…

He recounted the day's events in his head and had now reached where he presently was.

He was home. His bedroom had been untouched since the day he left for the Officer's academy. The copy of Loog and The Maiden of Wind he had attempted to steal so long ago laid at the top of his bookshelf: dried violets were still on the desk beside his bed.

Ashe reveled in nostalgia for a few moments, before quickly changing into light bedclothes and practically flopping into his bed.

He was lonely already. 

This was his home, but his friends were so far away. 

Dedue was so far away...

When Ashe asked Dedue to dance with him, it was the first, last and only time Dedue held him. 


	2. and it is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That night, when Ashe asked Dedue to dance with him, it was the first, last and only time Dedue held him.
> 
> But it didn’t have to be.

  
Dimitri was dead. It was official. The empire had sent the announcement all across the continent.

There was no statement on the whereabouts of his vassal. 

Ashe wanted to think they were alive. Nobody had seen their bodies, after all: it could’ve just been a scheme by the empire to have people lose morale. If it was, it had worked: Ashe didn’t want to fight. When House Rowe, who he had given dominion over Gaspard, were the first noble house to surrender to the empire, Ashe stopped fighting as well. He retired from his post and put down his bow and for a little over two years to live a meagre life with his siblings. 

Ashe wanted to think they were alive. Otherwise, what he was doing and what he had done were selfish. He had left his siblings in the care of a nearby church and given them all the gold he could piece together in order to begin the hike down south with nothing but a bow in his hands and a quiver full of arrows on his back so he could hopefully see his friends _(especially Dedue)_ again. He had stopped fighting, had stood and beared the tyranny of the Empire, so he could live to see his friends _(especially Dedue)_ again.

Then again, it’d also be selfish if he didn't fulfill a promise.

* * *

Dimitri was alive: and the professor was as well! Ashe was ecstatic to see both of them again, and it seemed the rest of the Blue Lions were too. After cutting down the leader of the thieves who had made Garreg Mach their home, everyone had assembled around Dimitri and Byleth. Despite how happy Ashe was to see his teacher and his future king alive and to reunite with the majority of his classmates, a question pursed his lips.

Ingrid spoke before he did. “Your Highness! Professor!” She beamed, "I'm so glad you're both safe…"

Dimitri looked disgusted with her. There were visible bags under his left eye and Ashe didn't want to guess what had happened to the other. "Why are you here?" he hissed.

Ashe frowned. Dimitri was alive, but it was to see him in such a state. From the few words the Prince had spoken, Ashe could already tell the war had changed him for the worse. "Did you forget? We all made a promise here on this very day five years ago."

"Dimitri," Mercedes chimed in, her voice as motherly as ever, "weren't you the one who asked that we all meet up here?" She acted as if he was being childish.  
"Don't be silly!" Annette smiled, despite the daggers His Highness was staring into her. "Of course you remember our promise. That's why you and the professor are here, right?"  
Gilbert bowed towards Dimitri, "Your Highness… I have been following your whereabouts for a while now. I am relieved to have finally found you." Ashe wondered why a Knight of Seiros was looking Dimitri instead of the archbishop.  
"Do not call me that. I am not a prince, but a walking corpse." He did not speak of the promise. Byleth turned towards him as he said those words, her face expressionless as usual.   
"Why is that?" she asked plainly, fearlessly. She had barely changed from five years ago.

Dimitri did not answer: Gilbert instead asked another question. "That is what we all believed, but it is not so. I can see with my own eyes that you are alive your highness. But the jail cells in Fhirdiad are as solid as they come. How did you manage to…"

"Dedue."

Hearing that name stung. Ashe began to brace for impact: his eyes were already wet and he was looking down so the others could not see the pathetic look on his face.  
He had came here to see Dedue. Would he never be able to confess his love? He at least wanted to be able to see him one last time.

"What happened?" Byleth was still expressionless. Ashe was glad she asked, though, because he wouldn’t have been able to muster up the courage himself.

He spoke coldly, without a hint of sorrow, but the words made Ashe’s heart ache:

"He's dead. He died in my place."

He zoned out.

Dedue was dead?

Ashe supposed Dedue really was so foolish as to throw his life away like that. He was right to worry. If he had asked, no, told Dedue not to throw his life away would he have listened? If he told Dedue that he had so much more to live for than just Dimitri, would he be here today?

Was it selfish of him to think such a thing? The prince, heir apparent, was alive. That mattered more than the happiness of a mere commoner like him. It was a vassal's duty to protect their liege.

Ashe still wanted to speak to Dedue in the greenhouse again. For him to kneel over Ashe's back to wipe dirt from his cheek, for his body to create a shadow over him as his chest slightly brushed against his neck. To have his large hand encompass his own, to feel the thick skin over his own calloused from using a bow so often.

Ashe still wanted Dedue.

"Ashe," Mercedes' soft voice broke him out of his trance, "why are you crying?"

He opened his eyes to see the ground, stained with wet circles from his own teardrops. Everyone else had already left: they were alone. He tried to speak, to say that he was okay, but the words were stuck in his throat: he was shaking and could not seem to make a sound. 

"It's okay," Mercedes cooed. She placed a hand on his shoulder as if to see if it was alright to touch him before wrapping her arms around him. He felt pathetic, having cried in front not just Ingrid but now Mercedes as well. He wanted to pull away and wipe his own tears, to not be weak in front of Mercie. 

He couldn’t. He put his own arms around her, sinking into her shoulder. Ashe remembered how Christophe had never cried in front of him. Failure never got to him. Ashe wished he could be more like him right now. 

Mercedes gently patted him on the back and he sniffled. “Thank you, Mercedes,” he said, before she released him from her grasp, stepping back ever so slightly.

“Think nothing of it,” she smiled at him, brighter than the sun, as she patted down her skirt. She was a good friend, Ashe thought. Even if he couldn’t see Dedue, it was good to see his other friends again. Byleth, Annette, Ingrid, Sylvain and of course, Mercedes, were all so kind to him. Even Felix was, under his prickly exterior.  
  
“Everyone else started their way towards the dorms, I believe,” she spun around to face towards the stairs that joined the town and monastery, “would you like to walk there together?”

He stood up straight and stiffened his shoulders to compose himself, before nodding towards her and making a start towards the stairs. “Of course.” 

She followed beside him, and looked up over his head. “Ashe, you’ve gotten taller!”  
“Just a little bit, but yes.”  
“You’re taller than me now… and you’ve gotten even more handsome.”  
“Handsome?” (He was a bit embarrassed by that comment, to be frank.)  
“I’m just teasing,” she let out a small giggle. “Even if is true. I’m just glad to see how everyone’s grown these past few years.”  
Not everyone was, here, though, Ashe thought. He decided not to say anything about it, though. “You look quite lovely yourself,” he said instead. “That hat looks quite nice on you.”  
“Hehe, thanks. I made it myself, actually. I could teach you how to sew, if you wanted. Considering how much you’ve helped me cook, it’s the least I can do.”   
“That'd be nice.”  
“Well, feel free to knock on my door anytime! You're just down the hallway, aren’t you?”

She turned her head to the side and Ashe’s eyes followed to see what she was looking at. He hadn’t really been paying attention to his surroundings, so he was surprised that they were already at the dormitories. Mercedes was so pleasant to talk to that time went by somewhat quickly. 

“Yeah,” he replied. It’d be nice to fill in the time with her: speaking to her calmed him down. She was like a big sister. “Thank you, Mercedes.”  
“It’s no problem, Ashe! See you soon.”  
“See you!”

They parted ways, Mercedes heading towards her room and Ashe towards his own. It seemed that the dorm had not been damaged these past five years, despite all the chaos that took place. Letters he had written for his siblings but never sent were still on his desk. A small plant he placed on the dining table to keep him company was still alive. Flowers the professor had given him on his seventeenth birthday still sat on the shelf, alongside a myriad of books. Some were assigned reading from classes, whereas others were borrowed from the library just to enjoy. Ashe felt kind of embarrassed that they had been overdue for years, but it was just a byproduct of the circumstances, he supposed.

His room was untouched: just like his room in Lonato’s manor was, when he had returned to it so long ago. 

It wasn’t really that long ago, though, considering how vividly he remembered it.  
He remembered the neighbouring dorms not being empty as well: how the monastery used to be full of so much life. Some mornings he’d be woken up by the sound of Raphael shouting as he trained. Sometimes Flayn was even shouting with him. Other mornings, he’d wake up and find himself walking to the dining hall with Ignatz. They seemed to have quite a bit in common. 

There was someone else, who he tried not to think of.

Nevertheless, he did find it discomforting. There used to be five people living in this block: now there were just two. 

* * *

The monastery was different: it was emptier, and the atmosphere felt heavier. Their war councils felt just like old classes, though. (Except for the fact that Dimitri and Dedue weren’t there.) Byleth would tell everyone what areas to improve on, maybe give them some pointers at the start of the week, just like she had before.

The circumstances were all too different, though. Ashe tried to train harder. One day he punched a training dummy until his knuckles bled and most mornings before that his arms were sore from the previous day. As Mercedes bandaged his knuckles, the yellow glow of her faith magic slowly sinking into his skin, she told him to take care of himself, relax and hold back on the training. Even Felix, of all people, said he was overdoing it.

It was just a distraction. He filled in the time instead by cooking with Annette or Mercedes, sometimes even both, or helping Cyril with his chores. He and Ingrid made an informal book club, as well. One day, he even sat down with Sylvain and asked him how he got over heartbreak.

Ashe soon realised he was talking to the wrong person.

It hadn't hurt to take a break, though. He had friends who were there for him.

It didn't particularly help either.

They had protected Garreg Mach from an Imperial attack, and Ashe had survived the battle. Barely. 

He had been trying to attack the soldiers in Dimitri's path from a distance, but his shots had missed and warriors ran at him with their axes raised. Ashe managed to fend them off, but not without taking a few heavy hits himself. He was battered and bruised, even bleeding out in places. 

Dimitri ran headfirst into the enemy's back lines, not even looking back at Ashe. 

Once, when they were students, a bandit had landed a hard hit on Ashe, leaving him barely able to move. Dimitri had darted towards him and handed him a concoction, before striking the bandit down with one strike of his lance. He asked Ashe if he was alright and assured him it was alright to stay towards the back for the rest of the battle.

That polite young man was gone now.

It made Ashe sad, to think that he wasn't there to help Dimitri. He wished he had the guts to confront Dimitri, to set him straight. He felt a responsibility to do something: not because Dimitri was his prince, but because Dimitri was his classmate and friend. (Because Dimitri was the man who saved his first love.)

Mercedes ran across the battlefield and healed Ashe from a distance, and Sylvain turned his horse around to heal Ashe further. The wound closed up and the bleeding stopped: the pain went away. 

He went back to fighting the moment he was able to, picking off pegasus knights who were getting too close to the monastery's entrance. He tried to stop thinking about Dimitri: he needed to focus on his aim.

He was quite sure Mercedes, Sylvain and everyone else felt the same, though.

He was certain Felix did. He would scoff when Dimitri spoke, whispering under his breath that this was stupid. 

Ashe had even overheard Felix threatening Sylvain that he'd go home to Fraldarius territory (because it was a "lost cause" fighting under the same banner as a "boar") if Sylvain didn't stop trying to do _those things_ in public.

But that was none of Ashe's business: he pretended not to have heard it.

The thing was, after that battle, Ashe began to ease back into training daily, which meant he saw Felix more often. Mercedes and Byleth said he didn't have to, despite him not visiting the grounds for the better part of a month. Annette even told Ashe he shouldn't overwork himself; the hypocrite.

Felix was always there when he visited the grounds. He trained like a man possessed, belting training dummies with his sword as if they were his greatest enemy. He got even worse once Felix's father joined their ranks, after their ragtag group retrieved troops from him in the Valley of Torment. (Ashe didn't like thinking about that day. He raised his fists against those he once fought beside and he thought Gwendal to be an honourable knight.) 

After that day, Felix's weapons began to deteriorate even faster than before. He only initiated conversations with Ashe if he was offering to spar.

Felix seemed to be avoiding how he felt about Dimitri, but at the same time Ashe knew that he cared. _He really was like the knight in that story._

Case in point, Felix had just knocked Ashe to the ground and despite the way he smirked, he reached down to help Ashe up. So much for Ashe improving his swords skills…

"You're overdoing it,' Felix sighed, dropping his sword. Ingrid laughed from a corner of the wall where she had been watching them spar.   
"As if you can talk, Felix." She walked towards the both of them. Felix seemed unamused.  
"I can, because I'm doing that right now."  
Ingrid squinted her eyes at him and let out a sigh. "Very clever… now can we take a break in the dining hall?"  
"That sounds nice, Ingrid," Ashe replied.   
"I need to keep on training, but you should eat before you get too hungry," he smirked. "Goddess knows what will happen then."

To Ashe's surprise, Ingrid rolled her eyes and sighed before turning to leave. She was always so snarky to Felix, when usually she would never act in such a rude manner. It only made sense, considering their relationship.

Ashe had felt like a bit of an outsider to the Blue Lions when he first came to the Officer's Academy: Sylvain, Ingrid, Felix and Dimitri had all known each other for longer than they could remember. Annette and Mercedes were already best friends before coming to the monastery. There was one person in their class that he could relate to, as an outsider, but that didn't matter. That was the past. 

Now, he felt like one of them. Sleepovers with Mercedes and Annette just felt normal. He was part of the conversation now when he spoke to Sylvain, Felix and Ingrid. 

Ashe turned to follow Ingrid. Despite all that, that he was one of the Blue Lions, one of them, he still wasn't sure if it was okay to ask. He was worried about his friend, though.

Once they were out of earshot he turned to Ingrid and looked her in the eyes. "Is Felix all right?" 

"Yeah," she stretched her arms behind her back and straightened her ribbon. "Felix is just… Felix."  
  
...that shouldn't have made sense, but somehow it did. 

"What about you, Ashe? Are you alright?"  
Ashe was a bit confused. "Yeah, I'm fine. No need to ask, really."   
She frowned. "It's okay not to be okay, you know. I was a bit worried about you, considering how close you were to De-"  
"Don't say his name!' Ashe interrupted, his brows knitting together in frustration. He didn't mean to snap at her, it was Ingrid: she meant well. But… he couldn't help. 

He remembered the way Ingrid used to _look_ at Dedue. She had grown up since then, but it was still infuriating to think about it.

"Sorry, Ashe. Just…" she looked down at the ground, stopping dead in her tracks. She was frowning, but the look she gave Ashe was so sincere. "I know what it's like to have loved and lost."   
Ashe took a deep breath. “Can we please stop talking about this?”   
He was over Dedue, really. Really. That was what he told himself, at least. He learnt over the past two and a half months that everything would be alright: he had friends who were there for him. His life would go on, even if his first love was gone.

He didn’t need Ingrid’s pity. Even if she had the best intentions. 

“I didn’t mean to overstep boundaries,” she sighed, picking up her pace again. “Let’s go eat. We have to be well fed to take Myrddin!”

Ashe smiled, even laughed a little and followed along. The meal they had was nice.

He wouldn’t be going to the Great Bridge of Myrddin, though. Byleth had already told him he’d be staying at the monastery. She said she didn’t think an archer would be particularly useful there but assured Ashe that he was a valuable addition to their army. She even smiled at him. It warmed his heart to see her begin to express her emotions.

Staying at the monastery and watching the fort, just in case, was an important job, so Ashe didn’t mind. It gave him more time to prepare for the battle afterward as well.

* * *

He had fit in some training while the rest of the army was gone, but decided to sit in the greenhouse and water the plants. He even took the opportunity to practice some magic on the soil.

It was relaxing to take care of them plants. Nostalgic, almost. It felt so rewarding to watch the flowers grow day by day: he couldn’t help but feel happy when they bloomed. 

The flowers of Duscur, secluded away into their own little corner so they were not overwatered, were beginning to flower. He had never asked him when they bloomed, now that he thought about it. He shouldn’t have been thinking about him, though, because he accepted what had happened, right? 

He had to prepare to fight in their next battle.  
Nothing could prepare him for what happened the day of the Great Bridge of Myrddin, though. He was prepared to learn that Lorenz had died. He was prepared to hear Annette sob about Ferdinand. But to see Dedue again? That was incomprehensible.

He had been relaxed, zoned out, in his own little sanctuary as he watered the flowers: forget-me-nots, to be particular. Oh, how he hated to think of that name. When he had first came back, he was so happy to see the plants alive and well kept. The forget-me-nots stood out to him. Had he been forgotten? 

The sound of metal boots against the ground confused Ashe. Of course there were other members of the army stationed at Garreg Mach, but he doubted Flayn, Shamir or Catherine would wear something so heavy.

He turned his head to see who it was.   
His eyes widened. He dropped the watering can. He audibly gasped, yet when he began to speak his words were barely a whisper.

  
“...Dedue?”  
“It is good to be back, Ashe.”

  
It was him. It saddened Ashe to see the scars on his face, but it was Dedue, alive and well. Ashe's heart had began to beat ever so fast. This was a miracle. The Goddess had heard his prayers.

Dedue was smiling ever so softly, just like he did during the ball. 

That night, when Ashe asked Dedue to dance with him, it was the first, last and only time Dedue held him.

  
_But it didn’t have to be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear the last chapter will be full of fluff to make up for all this angst i've written and plan on writing. Hope you enjoyed, if you notice any mistakes please point them out. Shout-out to my homie Blair for proofreading this chapter.


	3. we're just two slow dancers

“...Dedue?”

“It is good to be back, Ashe.”

It was him. It saddened Ashe to see the scars on his face, but it was Dedue. He was smiling ever so softly, just like he did during the ball. 

That night, when Ashe asked Dedue to dance with him, it was the first, last and only time Dedue held him.

But it didn’t have to be.

Ashe _ ran _ despite there barely any distance between them and _ jumped _ into Dedue's arms. It was a spur of the moment decision that he'd find himself blushing over for the next few nights, but it was worth it. Dedue caught him and held him, lifting him with one hand on his hips and the other embracing his back. 

Ashe had been over Dedue, he had learnt that life went on, but oh, he had definitely regretted not holding him back when he had the chance. Dedue's armour was sharp in places, not to mention bulky: it poked against Ashe's skin. The warmth he felt inside made up for the cold metal against him all too well, though. His heart was beating too fast: this was too good to be true. He had thought he was fair past the stage of denial, though.

“I missed you as well.” Dedue gently patted him on the back and he was reminded that this is indeed real. “May I please place you down, though?” 

This was real.

This was real and what he was doing was embarrassing. All of a sudden he's that same naive schoolboy with an embarrassing crush again, pretending he hadn’t been staring when Dedue looked back at him. Those thoughts he tried so hard to push away were coming back all too fast.

“Yes, please…” he uncurled his arms and Dedue lifted him down. He made sure Ashe’s feet were on the ground and he was balanced before he let go.

Ashe hadn’t really took in the sight in front of him, he had been too eager to to hold Dedue.

Dedue looked handsome. His hair had gotten longer: Ashe could tell from the way his ponytail was higher yet reached the same length it did back at the Academy. The sides had been shaved as well but Dedue… Dedue managed to pull it off. The colour of his scarf and paint on his armour really suited him too. He wondered why Dedue was not wearing earrings anymore, but the pin on his scarf was nice. The intricate pattern was fascinating as well: wasn’t that a symbol of Duscur? He’d have to ask later.

It was a shame that his face bore those wounds, though, as Ashe could’ve been there to stop whoever did that to him. Underneath those cuts, though, was the same man Ashe had dreamed of kissing, so it didn’t matter. Tonight he would fantasize about brushing his lips against those scars. 

“You have gotten taller,” Dedue said, bluntly. Ashe was blushing: he had been in too much of a trance taking in the sight that was Dedue and that comment just made him wonder if he could reach Dedue’s lips if he stood on his tip toes. 

Ashe didn’t respond for a small number of seconds because after Dedue spoke, his expression seemed awfully… fond? Ashe wasn’t sure how to describe it. Five years had passed, Dedue had grown into even stronger of a man but somehow his gentle smile was still so cute.

“I-I have, huh?” he had tried not to stutter. When Mercedes said the same thing Ashe had been a bit embarrassed but this felt like several magnitudes more. If Dedue called him handsome as well he might just explode.

There was silence for a few more moments, but not an uncomfortable one… it was more euphoric. They both just looked at each other. Ashe wondered what Dedue had been thinking. Should he say how he felt? He hesitated. He couldn’t confess his love just yet, he hadn’t seen Dedue for five years and his feelings weren’t in proper order. For all he knew Dedue could be a very different person, even if he already felt so familiar. 

But… he had grieved Dedue’s death. He had so many questions. 

“I really did miss you.” He found himself playing with his hands to distract himself a bit. “Why weren’t you here on the day of the millennium festival, though? 

“I…”

Dedue faltered in his speech often to consider what to say. Yet he didn't usually look down at the ground. Ashe already felt bad seeing him like this, even if hadn’t even began to speak. “I did not want to endanger myself or His Highness,” he continued after thinking for a few long moments, raising his head to look eye to eye with Ashe. “I had to avoid Imperial spies. Were I to come out of hiding, I could have been captured... or worse. I am sorry.”

Ashe disliked how often Dedue apologised. He was being polite, but he had no reason to be sorry. What he had done was in everyone’s best interests, right? “There’s no need to apologise-” Ashe began but was soon interrupted. 

“As His Highness' vassal my responsibility is to act for the good of my liege, not myself. I did not want to fail a second time.”

Ashe’s eyes stung and he stood back so he could look into Dedue’s eyes. What he had done wasn't to protect everyone. Was it? It was just for that self-proclaimed "walking corpse". Ashe found it infuriating…

“You have so much more to live for, Dedue,” he wanted to speak up, to say it louder, but it felt as if he could barely push words from his throat. “I wanted so badly to tell you that five years ago.” 

Dedue's smile changed into a disingenuous one: the same one he wore when Ashe told him about the horrible things he heard of Duscur. “I am happy to live for His Highness and His Highness alone.”

“Are you, though?” Ashe sighed. Dedue nodded, repeating what he had said: he was happy to live his life for “His Highness”. “He gave me a reason to live.”

“I _ mourned _you, Dedue,” Ashe croaked, his voice a quivering mess. “Please… please don’t throw your life away ever again.” 

Dedue seemed bewildered. He stared back into Ashe’s eyes and Ashe stared back. Silence: this time, a silence full of sorrow.

The sun outside was setting. It was late and this… this was awful. He’d apologise tomorrow, for now, Ashe just wanted to cry into his pillow. He was still in love, it seemed, but he had no chance. 

“Good night, Dedue,” he groaned as he left the greenhouse, his fists curled by his sides. He did not look back once as he trudged along to his room. He slammed the door behind him and flopped into bed, not even bothering to change into his nightclothes.

He shouldn’t have asked. The Goddess gave him a miracle and he in turn made an awful mistake.

-

Ashe awoke to a knock on his door. He was terrified: he didn't want to see Dedue just yet, he'd just pretend he wasn't there and try to get back to sleep.

"Ashe, are you in there?"

Oh. It was just the professor. He supposed he had to stand up, and rub the sleep from his eyes: what type of soldier would he be otherwise?

When he opened the door she stared at him blankly before shoving a piece of paper into his hands. It was a map of Garreg Mach’s surrounds: a red cross marked the meeting point of three mountains. 

"There are reports of thieves here," she explained. "Please scout the area with Gilbert. It would improve your riding skills."

Ashe nodded and feigned a smile. "Of course, professor!"

This would give him time to think. He wouldn't have to purposefully avoid Dedue.

-

Gilbert barely spoke to him. Ashe was thankful for it. They had merely shook hands in the morning before beginning their way south in silence.

As he watched the sun beginning to set he thought about Dedue. After they returned and slept and rested, he would say sorry first. He could pretend that what Dedue had said didn’t hurt and he was just overreacting. Then they could look at the same sky and speak about everything. Just like they used to before Jeralt died.

He heard metal clink as an arrow reflected off Gilbert’s armour. Without thinking he took up his lance and charged in the direction it came. It was unlucky for thieves to reveal themselves at that moment: they had to ride back and report and by the time they were done the sky was almost pitch black. 

He wondered now, as he entered the dining hall, if that was a bad omen. The person he had been dreading to see was right there, waiting for him. Did Ashe even have the stomach to say sorry first?

“You’re quite late getting back,” Dedue said. There was no anger or sadness in his voice: it was just the Dedue Ashe knew (and definitely didn’t love). He didn’t have to apologise just yet, it seemed. Dedue was too kind.

“The scouting mission didn’t go well. I was so busy I didn’t even have time to eat.” 

“I thought that might be the case. Gilbert was exhausted too. Glad you made it. I saved some food for you.”

Ashe smiled. Dedue _ really _ was too kind. 

“Thanks. I’m starving.”

-

_ As long as you think of them, they will. _

The words echoed in Ashe's head that night as he struggled to sleep. Dedue was the kindest person he knew now that he thought about it.

Throughout their meal, he did not once mention what happened the day before. They talked about family, about how their memories would live and Ashe had ended up crying but Dedue barely commented on the tears. He just insisted Ashe ate as much as he'd like. When Ashe looked back up at him he was smiling.

Oh, he couldn't stay mad at Dedue for long, could he? Not only did he look even more handsome after these five years, Dedue was still cute as well. He had thought about it yesterday, how Dedue's smile still managed to make his heart flutter. Now he thought of how Dedue wasn't just the kindest and cutest person Ashe knew but the strongest as well...

Ashe _ definitely _ wasn't falling in love all over again. 

-

Sun filtered in through the curtains and Ashe couldn't get back to sleep, no matter how much he tossed and turned.

It wouldn't hurt to get up and have an early breakfast. Even if their war council didn't start for several hours, he'd find something to do in the greenhouse.

When he saw that Dedue was already there before him, kneeling in front of a patch of dirt, Ashe wondered if getting out of bed early was the right decision. Dedue was his friend and he wasn't angry at him anymore, but still… in these circumstances, shouldn't he occupy his thoughts with less trivial matters instead of how he feels about Dedue?

Dedue looked over at Ashe standing in the door frame.

"Hello, Ashe," was all he said before turning back to his work. His voice was deep but calm and Ashe decided it didn't matter at the moment that they were fighting a war, and scurried over to see what he was

"Hi, Dedue." Ashe looked over his shoulder: he was sowing seeds from a small hemp pouch, labelled only with an illustration.

Ashe's eyes widened. "Are those…?"

"Violets." The prince's vassal looked back at him with a pleased expression. "Are they still your favourite?"

"Yeah." Ashe sat down beside Dedue, putting his knees to his chest whilst he watched Dedue's hands with fascination. "How'd you know?"

"You told me back at the academy. When we gardened together."

_ Before Jeralt died and everything went wrong. _ The words are unspoken. They both knew what happened. 

"I guess I did, huh?" he said before unconsciously moving his hair back behind his ear. Almost as if he wanted to look good for Dedue. "I really miss gardening and talking like that..."

There is silence for a few moments as Dedue presses a seed into the ground. When he did speak his voice was soft and tender, sweeter than anything Mercedes would ever bake.

"There is no reason we cannot do it again now."

Ashe looked back and Dedue still had his eyes trained on him: unwavering and unblinking. Tracing his eyes over the freckles that dotted Ashe's cheeks. He let out a tiny giggle and the man above him's pupils widened ever so slightly.

"...you're right, Dedue. I'd love to."

Dedue blinked. Ashe swore he could’ve seen him blush before he turned his gaze to the flowerbed. “Then please, tell me everything. There is a lot for us to catch up on.” 

Ashe wondered where to begin. He could talk about his siblings and how they had grown up or about the times he and Annette would attempt cooking together. There was even that story Sylvain told him about Lord Gwendal, or the books he had been reading with Ingrid. Oh, and he became friends with Cyril as well, hadn’t he? Mercedes was improving her cooking and he’d been sparring with Felix too!

So much had happened. He supposed he would have to tell Dedue all of it. 

(It wouldn’t be insensitive to begin by talking about his siblings, right? Dedue listened without comment before but now Ashe knew Dedue once had a younger sister… 

Dedue didn’t seem phased. His small smile remained and he in turn talked about his time in the Duscur residential district: the time he spent with those “brothers” who saved him. 

That night, Ashe fantasized about what would’ve been if Dedue had ran away with him instead.)

  
  


-

They had been speaking in the greenhouse every day since the scouting mission. Ashe enjoyed it, and Dedue kept on coming back, so… was it selfish for Ashe to think Dedue enjoyed his company?

Nevertheless, he was enjoying telling this story. Their garden was making quick progress as well thanks to a mix of magic, pegasus blessings as well as tender love and care: their violets had already begun to sprout.

“And well, I didn’t believe him at first,” Ashe said whilst lightly watering their flower bed, “but Ingrid told me it was true and she even had to get Sylvain out of it!” 

Ashe snickered and Dedue even let out a slight chuckle. He was so distracted by how lovely Dedue’s laugh was that as he placed the can down and rested his hand by his side, he didn’t realise their hands were brushing together. He didn’t know what to do: would he move his hand and risk making it seem like he didn’t want to touch Dedue, or would he leave his hand there and risk overstepping an invisible boundary? 

Similar things had happened all too often. Ashe would place his hand over Dedue's to demonstrate a bow technique or point to a location on a map without thinking. 

Dedue had technically done the same thing when correcting Ashe's stance with an axe but that didn't stop the anxious feeling in his stomach when he realised that he _ accidentally _ held his _ friend _'s hand.

Dedue opened his mouth to speak and Ashe felt a bottomless despair for a moment. Had he messed up?

But all he said was that “Sylvain can be unbelievable at times” and Ashe found himself devolving back into laughter. 

-

Perhaps it was a bad idea to ask Sylvain for advice. Except he was the only one who had actually offered when it came to… this topic. 

(At least the only one still around. He remembered bundling up in front of the fireplace with Christophe and just... talking. One time, when Ashe was only twelve, Christophe mentioned that he was writing to a pretty girl from House Rowe. “When you’re older,” he had said in between sips of mint tea, “I’ll help you get a beautiful wife too.”)

“Sylvain?” 

The man in question put his cutlery down and smirked. “Ashe?”

_ Unbelievable. _ He was already teasing Ashe after just one word. He let out a sigh. He’d already dug this hole, he couldn’t back out now.

“How can you tell if someone likes you back?” 

“Oh?” he put his elbows on the table, placed his hands underneath his chin and inched slightly closer. “Who’s the lucky la-”

_ Not a lady _. “Answer the question, Sylvain.” 

His eyes fluttered, as if astonished. “Well, there’s a lot of ways. Does sh… I mean, do they laugh at your jokes?”

Ashe… didn’t necessarily tell Dedue jokes. But he did laugh sometimes. He laughed at the stories Ashe told about his siblings or their friends here. When Ashe laughed, Dedue would. They laughed together. 

Despite that, the answer was no. Ashe shook his head. Sylvain hummed, as if thinking. 

“Do they look at you?”

That didn’t make sense. Of course Dedue looked at Ashe: how else were they meant to talk? He knew Sylvain meant something more with that, but what? Ashe’s mind flickered back to that look Dedue gave him after Myrrdin. The way all the tension in his brow disappeared and his lips curled together: the serenity of it all.

Then there was that other look. When he smiled, but without his eyes. 

“What do you mean do they look at me?”

The redhead sitting across from him frowned.

“Can’t you just tell me who it is? Then I could definitely help-” 

Ashe let out another sigh. “No.”

Sylvain was silent for a few moments, before he smirked. It seemed he had an idea. “Alright. So is it Ingrid? She really enjoys talking about books with you, you know.”

An awful idea.

Ashe squinted at Sylvain and shrivelled up his nose, to which Sylvain laughed. “Stop that.”

Sylvain kept on laughing. “Heh, sorry Ashe,” he wheezed. “I was just trying to help. What about Mercie? You cook together, right?”

"Please, Sylvain."

He merely cocked his head to the side at those words."Is it that Cyril kid? You two are good friends, right?"

Ashe stood up from the table: it was his way of threatening to leave. He didn't want to, but if Sylvain found out about his silly little crush on Dedue, he might just die.

"It's not me, is it? Just so you know, I'm taken."

Ashe sighed before turning tail towards the door. He walked faster when Sylvain started asking if it was Alois or Seteth of all people. 

To think that Sylvain Jose Gautier, heir to the title of Margrave Gautier, would tease him like that, as if they were children… unbelievable. He remembered thinking Sylvain really was empathetic when he said everyone was the same, deep down.

It was too bad he put on that facade all too often. 

-

Yet again Ashe found himself sitting in front of the bed of violets with Dedue. They were spreading Caledonian soil throughout the dirt, silently enjoying a moment of repose. The flowers had begun to bud.

Ashe hadn’t noticed that, though.

He was too busy looking at Dedue. _ Did Dedue look at him? _

Their hands brushed together. Ashe had been mindlessly spreading the fertilizer without thinking and now all of a sudden Dedue turned and looked at him. Dedue was looking at him. His gaze bore past Ashe's face and into his soul and Ashe could feel warmth in his cheeks just from the way Dedue slowly blinked at him.

Yes. Dedue did look at him, for what felt all too long. He was definitely staring.

Ashe wanted to look away. This felt voyeuristic. But if he looked away, would it be an unspoken rejection? Dedue was opening his mouth to speak and Ashe felt fear jolt through his body, so instead he stood up blurted out the first words that came to mind. 

“I have to go,” Ashe said, and then he paused.

_ Fuck _. It was not a word Ashe thought often, but he had just lied and he hadn’t even thought it through yet. Dedue just continued staring up at him, his brow cocked in a show of curiosity.

“...the professor… asked me to see her now. I forgot.”  
Dedue merely nodded. “I will continue here. See you tomorrow, Ashe.”

“Yeah,” he definitely wasn’t blushing as he walked out. “See you tomorrow, Dedue.”

Especially since the worst person to see the red on his cheeks was standing outside, by the girl’s dorms. 

Ashe shook his head. He’ll just say hello to Sylvain, nothing more, nothing less, then head to the training grounds to beat up a training dummy to clear his mind. Ashe began to walk past, opened his mouth to speak except then Sylvain _ started _ and Ashe pouted. “I saw that. It’s De-”

“Shouldn’t you be training?”

“It is, right? Besides…” he laughed, “shouldn’t YOU be training?” 

Sylvain was right. They’d be marching for Gronder Field in less than a week. 

“...train with me, then.”

-

Ashe did indeed see Dedue the next day. Of course he did. Dedue wouldn’t leave again, not without Ashe knowing. He lived beside Ashe, too, so it’s unlikely they wouldn’t run into each other. 

“Good morning, Ashe,” Dedue had said, as they seemingly got up and opened their doors at the same time. His hair was a tad messier in the mornings and Ashe thought it was cute: a sight for sore eyes.

“Morning,” Ashe smiled up at him. “Sorry about yesterday in the greenhouse.”

“It is fine.” Dedue smiled back. “Would you like to meet there today?”

“No thanks. I think I need to practice for today.”

“If that is what you want to do, I will have everything under control.”

It was quiet for a few moments. Ashe just kept looking at Dedue, cherishing the sight in front of him, before the taller man spoke once again. “Would you like to go to the dining hall together?”

So polite. Ashe almost chuckled. “Of course.” He wouldn’t get much done with an empty stomach, would he?

-

The next time they were together in the greenhouse the atmosphere started awfully sombre. 

No amount of training could have prepared Ashe for Gronder Field. Had beating up dummies, sparring with no stakes or mindlessly shooting the same target over and over again really achieved anything? 

Perhaps it taught Ashe to dodge a sword, but he could not avoid this sorrow.

A dying soldier begging his commander to look after his sister. A young woman lamenting not being able to live longer. What could’ve been a world-renowned artist, accepting that his life was over. The burning corpse Ashe had to trudge over, on his way to the central ballista. The way Byleth had taken the bow from her dead hands as if it was nothing.

He tried not to think of their names. 

Except then there’s that huge flower, taller than him and somehow, it reminds him. “Bernadetta really liked plants like these.”

Dedue did not reply. Ashe strolled to his side and looked over his shoulder.

Their violets were already in full bloom. Dark purple petals contrasted well against the bright yellow of the pistil of the stamen. _ Beautiful _, Ashe thought. 

“Should we put some flowers on Rodrigue’s grave?” (The dirt above it was still fresh. Ashe hoped Felix knew he was there for him. Then again, it was Felix.)

“I have already done so with his Highness,” Dedue picked one of the violets. He held it gently and spun it between his hands, as if taking in the sight. Ashe was about to say something along the lines of, _ oh, is that so _, because really he’s not sure about Dimitri’s sudden change but Dedue spoke first. 

“We spoke about many things,” he’s turned his gaze from the violet to Ashe. A solemn smile graced his face. “I now realise that my words after Myrrdin were inapprop-”

_ Oh Goddess. _ “No!” Ashe interrupted. _ Dedue shouldn’t apologise first. Dedue shouldn’t apologise at all. _ “I should be the one saying sorry.”

The smile disappeared quicker than it had formed. “Please, Ashe, let me. You needn’t feel bad.” 

“I want to say it.” Ashe’s voice did not falter. He looked Dedue right in the eyes and Dedue stared right back.

“I cannot stop you, then.”

Ashe closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath. He had to get himself ready. This was impulsive. This was silly. But he had failed to say it too many times in the past. 

“I’m sorry for getting angry. I let my feelings get the best of me. In truth, I was mad because I had liked you.” He heaved a sigh. He still did like Dedue and even if Sylvain was pretty sure Dedue liked him back, he wasn't going to take any risks. “You don’t need to think anything of it, though. I had just beat myself up over never saying it and I wanted to get it out there.”

He opened his eyes to see Dedue. His expression seemingly shocked: his eyes wide. He’s moving his hand toward Ashe and Ashe could feel his stomach sink but then he merely stroked Ashe’s hair behind his ear and placed the violet there. 

His words are spoken softly, almost cooed, but oh, they hit so hard.

“I am quite fond of you, Ashe.”


	4. last one's out

Before coming to the monastery, Dedue had no friends. Even if Dimitri insisted otherwise. He had no plans to make any, either. Yet as the weeks turned into months and Dedue ate, trained, and lived with the Blue Lions, he felt closer to them. He grew to care for them, even if he would not openly call them his friends. He was a man of Duscur, after all. But...

Felix seemed to care about Dedue in his own, prickly way. Sylvain was a genuine, understanding person, underneath his self-destructive tendencies. Ingrid grew to be able to smile at Dedue, to see error in how she had treated him. Mercedes talked with him about the gods of Duscur, and she actually respected them. Annette was clumsy but good-hearted, and hard-working as well. Flayn joined their class later than the rest, yet she adored his cooking and tried her best to learn from him. They were all his friends.

But Ashe was different. 

That was not to say that Ashe _ wasn't _ his friend, though! Ashe was just… more than that. Ashe could gaze right up into his eyes and _ smile _at him and Dedue actually wanted to smile back. 

On the night of the ball, when Ashe approached him asking to dance, his heart was beating all too fast. Looking back on it, Dedue felt a slight regret for not accepting Ashe without protest. He had lied: he had told Ashe he didn’t know how to dance. It was true he did not know the dances of Fodlan, but the dances of Duscur were all too familiar. Yet he felt so _ warm _once they did dance together… 

Unfortunately, it didn’t last forever.

It couldn’t last forever. 

"Thank you, Dedue. Good night."

His hands felt empty as Ashe stepped back. Dedue thought about the Goddess Tower. There was a part of him that yearned to make a promise to Ashe. Dancing with him was surely enough, though. What would they even promise? Thoughts of being together forever brought a smile to his face, but still...

"Good night, Ashe."

He was Dimitri’s vassal first and foremost. 

-

The strategy meeting was over. Yet as everyone else shuffled out, Dimitri loomed over Dedue. 

“Come with me,” was all he said, once it was just the two of them. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting, Your Highness?”

“Please, Dedue? ”

Dimitri looked softly at him, almost like a puppy. Those eyes looked so much better without the bags underneath them. Dedue sighed and stood from his chair, following Dimitri out the door and down the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Dedue asked.

“The greenhouse. I thought you could help me pick some flowers for Rodrigue.”

That made sense. He supposed Dimitri hadn’t a chance to mourn yet.

“Of course.” 

“And I’d like to speak with you, as well.”

Dedue stopped in his tracks. “There is no need to fret over me. You have already apologized.”

“No, that’s not it. Do you remember when I told you to never throw away your life again? I feel as if I could have said something more. You’re allowed to live your life for someone else. You don’t need to worry about me forever.” 

“What do you mean?”

Dimitri blushed. “I’m sorry if this is rude to assume, but… Ashe. You can spend more time with him. If you’d like.” 

Oh gods. Now Dedue was blushing too. He did want to spend more time with Ashe, but would that even lead to anything? 

At the very least, he wanted to say sorry. 

-

“I’m sorry for getting angry. I let my feelings get the best of me. In truth, I was mad because I had liked you. You don’t need to think anything of it, though. I had just beat myself up over never saying it and I wanted to get it out there.”

  
  


Ashe’s words felt so sincere, and Dedue regretted not saying how he felt sooner. There was no use meandering through the past, though: he could confess then and there. 

“I am quite fond of you, Ashe.”  
  


The words were a weight off his chest. The flower in Ashe’s hair looked beautiful. (Not to mention that Ashe was beautiful… or was handsome a better word?) His eyes were wide and his mouth was agape, though, so Dedue moved his hand away. He was about to apologise again, this time for overstepping, but then Ashe grabbed his hand back.

“Actually… if… if you’d have me… I still want to be with you.”

“I’d be honoured.” 

_ Everything will be alright _.

He gently squeezed Ashe’s hand back. Ashe looked up at him, doe-eyed. A sweet silence lingered for a few moments before Ashe spoke.

“Then… does that make us boyfriends?”

“If that is what you want to call it.”

Ashe let out a soft laugh. “Guess we could call our time in the greenhouse dates, then? There isn’t much to do as a couple during war.”

“I would like to cook you dinner from time to time, as well,” Dedue insisted.“You don’t have to,” Ashe beamed. “But I would love that!”

“How about we meet in the dining hall tonight?”“Yeah! But firstly, what are we doing with the violets?”

Dedue turned back to the flowers in question and thought.

“...we could dry them to make bookmarks.” 

“That’s a great idea.”

Not much had changed. They gardened and spoke as they had before: except now they leaned closer together. They had been holding hands before, but now it was definitely on purpose. 

* * *

  
  


They met up around half an hour after the rest of the army had dinner. 

Ashe had been thinking about it the whole day. Whilst practicing, his arrows missed their marks and his axe throws barely made a dent. He was too busy wondering if he should get Mercedes and Annette to put some makeup on him or if he should do something with his hair. In the end, he just ended up combing it. Dedue liked him just the way he was, right? 

_ Dedue liked him! _

By the time he arrived, chairs had already been shifted to both sides of the kitchen bench and Dedue was concentrating on the stovetop.

He had taken his armour off and put a simple white apron on. A clean set of cutlery and plates sat on the bench: beside it was Dedue's scarf, bundled up snuggly, away from the stove.

(Dedue looked great, but then again, Dedue _ always _ looked great.) 

Ashe gently pulled the chair back, only for it to audibly screech against the floor. Dedue whipped his head around, but his expression softened when his eyes fell on Ashe.

“I did not see you come in.”

“That’s fine. You seemed quite focused, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Please do, next time.”

The words felt vaguely reassuring: there would be a _ next time _. There was a small, comfortable silence. A delicious, but unfamiliar smell wafted through the air. Ashe couldn’t help but be curious. 

“Is that a Duscur dish?” 

“Yes. I believe you wanted to try more Duscur cuisine.” 

“I still do! It makes me happy to know you remembered.” 

His lips slightly curled in response. “It is the least I can do.”

“Really?” Ashe let out a giggle. “I think it’s more than that. You’re one of the kindest people I know.”

“I appreciate it, but there is no need to praise me.”

“But it’s true! I think you’re kind and... cute. I probably should’ve said that this morning.”

Dedue looked away as he fetched a spatula. He was definitely blushing. “In truth, I am glad you are saying it now. You are kind as well, and… handsome.” 

"Thank you."

Ashe didn't say anything else, just smiled and looked at the floor. He felt giddy and warm inside. The feeling… was nice. Really nice. 

"The food is ready," Dedue announced before bringing two plates of meat over, sitting down across from Ashe. 

"Oh!" All of a sudden Ashe was back in Fodlan. He leaned forward, picking up his fork and taking in the aroma. "I meant to ask what it was exactly earlier."

“Fried Duscur bear seasoned with various herbs. I am unsure what you call them in Fodlan.”

Ashe prided himself on his knowledge of herbs, but they had been grounded up into small pieces. Even he didn't know. Nevertheless, the smell was enticing and Dedue was looking at him expectantly. He supposed he had to just try it.

With one bite he was already amazed. 

* * *

"This is delicious!" Ashe proclaimed the moment his mouth was empty. "You could open a restaurant, Dedue!" 

"I would rather not," Dedue replied as he slowly picked up his cutlery (he definitely hadn't been waiting for Ashe's approval to start eating), before smiling back at Ashe. "But I am glad you like it."

“Of course I like it!” Ashe held his hand to his cheek as he ate and Dedue had never seen someone eat with so much glee before. It was a vague reminder of home, but in a good way: he remembered dinner with family and happier times. 

As they ate, Dedue told Ashe about those times. He sat and listened, ate and nodded, and just… understood. It was nice to eat alone together.

Ashe seemed to agree. Dedue walked him back to the dorms with their hands clasped together, and once they were between their doors, Ashe let go of his grip and just beamed at him. “I’d love to do that again.”

“I feel the same.”

They basked in each other’s presence for a minute or so. It was kind of awkward: their rooms were right next to each other, so who was meant to leave first? Or was Dedue meant to invite Ashe in? The thought of it felt profane but if Ashe asked, he wouldn’t exactly say _ no _.

Ashe looked up at Dedue… lovingly? 

“Would you close your eyes for a moment?” was all he asked, and Dedue just nodded. He couldn’t help but lean down a bit, to help Ashe. He wondered if Ashe was standing on the tips of his toes. Then again, maybe Ashe wasn’t doing what Dedue hoped he was doing and this was just wishful thinking and-

Ashe kissed him (on the cheek). 

It was soft and gentle and it only lasted a few seconds, but when Dedue opened his eyes he felt no less than ecstatic.

“Good night, Dedue!” Ashe blurted out before practically sprinting through his own door. 

Dedue hadn’t even the chance to reply, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, all that mattered to Dedue was Ashe. There was no Tragedy of Duscur, there was no war and there was no fighting. There was only warmth, as he palmed his hand over where Ashe _kissed_ him. 

Maybe tomorrow they would kiss on the lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading all the way through. I really enjoyed writing this, and I plan on writing more Ashedue in the future!
> 
> In case you're wondering why I removed some tags, I don't think this is actually slow burn, whoops. As for the "will change to explicit", I decided to make this a series, so the SFW and NSFW content can be separate. The next entry to the series will be what was originally planned to be chapter 5.
> 
> Any and all comments are appreciated and I will try my best to reply! <3
> 
> By the way, I made a [twitter.](https://mobile.twitter.com/pseudocordelia/)


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